A Merry Marauder Christmas
by ohdearymewouldyoulookatthat
Summary: Where James is a big baby, Harry is a little baby, Voldie is a peeved baby and Lily and the Death Eaters are the only ones with any sense really. It's Christmas and they're stuck in Godric's Hollow, and James wants a tree. Pure crack.
1. Chapter 1

It was Christmas, and Lily was feeling put out. This was, of course, putting it mildly.

To clarify; this was the Christmas of 1980, Lily was currently living in her egregiously posh husband's Godric's Hollow cottage, without the ability to get out the house, make any kind of magic, or escape her (really quite lovely) two year old baby and (considerably less lovely) two year old husband.

"But Lily," James said, at his most charmingly persuasive, "It's just a tree. We need a tree. It's Christmas. Christmas needs a tree. We can't have Christmas. Without a tree."

"Yes dear," she said, completely unruffled, "But you see, we're not allowed to do magic. You know we're not about to do magic. You know they've re-instituted the Trace for those accused of treason, which we have been, James, thrice over, James. You know that if you use your magic to make us a tree, James, we're very likely to have a significant number of Death Eaters on our doorstep feeling absolutely tragic about the fact that they have to come and kill a one year old at Christmas. It's very possible that if our dear friend Voldie hasn't got back from Romania, he might well show up himself, and then you know then it'll get really embarrassing James. Also Harry doesn't have a memory. So"

James was less than chastened. "But Lily it's a TREE. A CHRISTMAS TREE I might add, at CHRISTMAS."

Lily very carefully did not grit her teeth. Picking up Harry, who was currently exploring the Lethally Dark Mysteries of His Left Nostril, she wondered for exactly the seventy sixth time whether or not she ought to bother. She decided to take a leap of faith. This, after all, was the season of hope and goodwill. If she could not (Goody Two-Shoes Lily Evans who had been friends with SNAPE) work up a healthy amount of faith and goodwill for her own cherished husband at their first married Christmas together, it was all going to go to hell anyway. So the long and short of it was that she had to leap. As it were. In a faithful fashion. To prove to the universe that it would go on as it was supposed to. The universe depended on her faithful leaping. Verily, she might even pirouette.

"James, you are my husband."

"Yes dear," he says, wilting.

"I have married you and all."

"Yes dear," like a warm lettuce.

"I'm supposed to trust you, that means."

"I think so, yes dear?"

"Which means that when you say you want to do things despite very obvious reasons to the contrary, I expect you have a deep and devious plan as to why you should do said things."

James goes a bit pale.

"If I don't then let you do it I become the Nagging Wife, James, and you become Henpecked."

James is a bit slow.

"So you're to do whatever you want to do James, because you are the Responsible Grown Up Adult Who Thinks Out Consequences to Things And Would Not Want His Family Killed."

James lights up like the Full Moon Eve coincided with Happy Hours at the Hog's Head and dashes out of the room ecstatically.

"It'll be the best tree you've ever imagined, Lils!" she hears him crow, "WE'LL SHOW THOSE DEATH EATERS WHO HAS MORE CHRISTMAS CHEER."

Lily sighs contemplatively and politely tells her brain that sometimes the universe can go shove it.


	2. Chapter 2

"James," Lily asked, "Why is there a twenty foot tree in our twelve and a half foot living room?"

James had on the manic grin that implied that he knew that he had done a naughty but:

a) He would get away with it because Lily loved him.

b) Not only would he get away with it, it would undoubtedly somehow turn out to be legendary, an epic tale that would be met with much fervent glee by his grandchildren (who he absolutely knew would worship at the altar of the Marauders, nay, would actually worship them and ply them with filched whiskey and things when they were living in the homes for the elderly) and would inspire the kind of light in Sirius's eyes that he hadn't seen since the last time he pulled off something magnificent, viz; two weeks back.

c) He could just resize it after all. Simple Reducio ought to cover it. In fact he'd get around to it right—

"James _NO_!"

"Oh. Er. Right. Magical Trace. Thing. Right. Lily dear, we probably need to discuss something, could I get you a cuppa—"

"James Potter," said a dangerously level voice. "Did you take the axe in the shed, put on your sodding invisibility cloak, walk into the forest till you found the right tree, chop it down and drag it home?"

The silence was as thick as James' glasses, which he had now taken off and was rubbing in a manner both blithe and wretched.

"If you didn't do all those things, and I'm finding it hard to believe that you could've in an hour, you must have spelled it here."

James peered at his socks, the tips of his ears bright red.

"Did you transfigure us a twenty foot pine tree, James?"

"Thing is Lils, it's a tree, right, and that's fine but you see, I got a bit carried away –it's been a bit of a while—Time-Coded charms, see, they all come together on a trigger—and you must promise not to—"

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. _

Lily's back tensed. "Take Harry," she said, her voice brooking no dispute. "Take Harry into the nursery and put him in— "

"_POTTER, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE."_

Lily walked in silent, measured steps down the stairs, heart quickening as the blood rushed into her face. She opened the door.

"For fucks sake, Lily, it's the fourth time this month. He's not supposed to do magic. You KNOW You Know Who tracks your records like you're his own personal hedge fund. And I can't keep fudging the GPS proxies on the spell d'you have any idea how long it takes to—"

"LESTRANGE, me old mucker," James cried, "YOU THOUGHT YOU'D STEAL CHRISTMAS DIDN'T YOU."

"James you utter tit do you have any idea the amount of trouble you're causing me-"

"YOU THOUGHT YOU WOULD PONCE ABOUT GOING TRA LA LA, JAMESIEPOO HASN'T GOT A TREE FOR CHRISTMAS, DIDN'T YOU."

"I mean we're literally trying to just keep this going long enough for the prophecy to fulfil itself do you think anybody cares about your sodding tree—"

"THOUGHT YOU'D BE ALL HUR DUR, MY NAME IS RABASTAN 'THE NEW GRINCH IN TOWN' LESTRANGE, DIDN'T YOU."

"Lily you married this twat. He can't be _that_ good in bed—"

"THAT'S MY WIFE YOU'RE TALKING TO, SIRRAH, AND I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE TALKING TO HER IN FRONT OF MY TREE WHICH YOU WILL NOW SEE BEFORE YOU."

Rabastan stopped in the doorway and stared. As his eyes slowly made their way from the pulsing pink fluorescent star gracing the (extremely horizontal) tip of the tree down to the bunting (made of Howler Paper, all going "NYER NYER NYER") he said conversationally, "You know the third time's the charm, right?"

Lily balked. "What d'you mean? Incidentally are you in the mood for nibbles at all? I've just got some cookies out and Old Bathilda's given us some quite nice eggnog if you're up for it."

"Ta luv, don't mind if I do, and what I meant is Voldie's going to be here in exactly two hours."

Lily went white. James went red. Harry went blue because nobody was paying any attention to him and James had left him alone in the cradle and he'd choked on his Knuckles The Pig Beany Baby. He had tried to eat it. Eating soft toys is generally not an advisable course of action if one intends on living much longer. He noted this and then turned over, the smart cookie. Colour returning to his face, he let out what he believed in the depths of his one-year-old soul to be a meaningful and defining YAWP and also made a deeply and truly stinky poo.


End file.
